


Two's Company

by QueenOfTheQuill



Series: Two's Company [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon, UnDeadwood, UnDeadwood Mini-series (Critical Role), also yes I named the poly relationship Royal Flush, and I'm not afraid to change that, there isn't an 'all of them are fucking' fic yet, vague post canon timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 05:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21404683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTheQuill/pseuds/QueenOfTheQuill
Summary: Here's how it happens.
Relationships: Aloysius Fogg/Arabella Whitlock/Clayton Sharpe/Reverend Matthew Mason/Miriam Landisman, Royal Flush - Relationship
Series: Two's Company [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760335
Comments: 24
Kudos: 135





	Two's Company

**Author's Note:**

> Someone: So, what's your favorite Undeadwood ship?  
Me, rubbing my shipping goblin hands all over everyone: What do you mean favorite?

Here’s how it happens.

It starts with Arabella and Miriam, of course. After the tragic death of Mr. Whitlock, dearly departed to the same terrible sickness that took her sister, no one in town can begrudge Bella the company.

“Oh, I just don’t want to rattle around this lonely old house all by myself. And Miriam’s been such a help, why wouldn’t I offer her a place to stay, so she won’t keep paying to live in that dusty hotel all the time?”

The sounds from the Whitlock house prove that neither woman is at all lonely. The girls at the Bella Union nod and slide their eyes sideways with wry twists to their lips. The hoopleheads in the street elbow each other with grins. Johnny behind the bar at the Gem just serves them their whiskey with the same nervous smile as he always has. Arabella tips him in gold.

But even the town of Deadwood scratches their collective head when Aloysius moves in.

“Our delicate sensibilities,” explains Miriam, with a gentle smile that could put sharks to shame if you squint just right and look at her eyes. “Mister Fogg has always been a dab hand with a rifle, and we ladies don’t want any strangers gettin’ too close to the house with just us by our lonesome.” Aloysius just grins and it’s less like sharks and more like the proverbial cat with yellow feathers dotting its face.

The sounds that come from the Whitlock house don’t stop. In fact, on the days that Aly isn’t frequenting the local pleasure houses, they get louder. Johnny blushes when Aly cracks a joke at the bar and the townsfolk can’t seem to map out what’s happening when they look at the three walking to meet their companions in the Gem for breakfast. The girls at the Bella Union, well their grins just get wider and their eyes more knowing when they trade their greetings with Miriam on her weekly visits to Joanie.

It’s well-known around town that if you need to find the Reverend—whether it’s for last rites or to unburden your Earthly soul—if you’re looking for him come dinnertime, it’s best to check the Whitlock house.

“The way the good Reverend cooks, the new church ‘a Deadwood’d go the same way as the last one,” says Aly over a hand of cards. He smiles gently whether he’s holding all numbers or a royal flush. “‘Sides, I make a better stew than most folks round here, and there’s a lot of reverend here to feed. Wouldn’t want him to feel like he had to leave town for his health, now would we?”

Then someone’s looking for Reverend Mason to bless some poor bastard dyin’ in the street from a 2am shootout. Nobody wants to leave the dead unblessed and aboveground for too long, but they start getting jittery when no one can find the town’s only holy man. It’s not until someone thinks to check the Whitlock residence, where three out of the four people likely to know the whereabouts of the reverend reside, that they find him, sleep rumpled like the rest of the occupants. Despite his protests of propriety, no one quite knows how to tell him his shirt’s on backwards.

The girls from the Bella Union show up for church every Sunday like a flock of jeweled and self-satisfied birds that perch in the back pews and sing prettier’n anyone in the building while their eyes twinkle like stars.

Clayton Sharpe was always going to be last. With his back to the corner and his guns by his side as he slept, the gossips of the town thought that he was certainly too surly and suspicious to be drawn into whatever nonsense the other four were getting into.

The noises at the Whitlock house may not have gotten any louder, but one day, Clayton starts showing up for breakfast at the Gem the exact same time as everyone else, never deviating. His eyes dare anyone to make a comment about it and Johnny drops three bottles of whiskey while they’re in the room.

“The Good Lord has blessed Clayton with people who would like to look out for him in this world and He’s blessed us with Clayton. We saw no reason to exclude him from our lives and deny the gift of companionship and mutual protection the Lord has given us. As my predecessor discovered, Deadwood is a town where we must count every blessing and precaution God has given us.” Matthew smiles gently.

Clayton says nothing, but when his eyes slide over Matthew, they soften just a bit.

“Amen!” shouts Katie, and the other girls from the Bella Union laugh as the tension in the room breaks. Even Joanie is out for a drink tonight and the people of Deadwood have had time to relearn what she means when she fixes her eye on a crowd.

So the five are left to their whiskey and their cards and when they all stumble home in the same direction that evening, the folks in the bar know better than to comment.

__________

Here’s how it happens.

There are five people in love and one night, on a job, Bella says, “I’m thinking of adding some space to the bedroom. Make it a little more… roomy. Homey, even.”

Across the campfire, Miriam’s eyes catch the firelight and it’s not hard to see how she looks like a shark when she smiles. “That sounds wonderful, darling. Why, with a house that big, I think perhaps  _ some _ of us could stop paying for rooms that we’re hardly sleeping in anyway.”

Clay’s cheeks redden and he scoots closer to the fire as an excuse. Aly gasps in mock outrage. “Mister Sharpe, with_out_ me?”

“Weren’t rightly hard, you were occupied with Annabelle at the time,” Clay shoots back. Aly just leans back on his elbows, smiling. “What about you Reverend? Got enough with just your three?” He smirks and raises an eyebrow at the rosary Matthew is using to pray.

“The Lord provides, Clayton,” he replies without lifting his head. “And the Lord is love.” When he glances up to peer at Bella from underneath his lashes, his eyes are wicked in a way the townsfolk would never see. “I’m sure He’d have no issues with me making some room in my heart for more love.”

“Then that’s settled,” says Bella, letting the tension finally drop from her shoulders as she beams around the circle.

Miriam’s laugh brings a smile to even Clay’s face. “Darling, did you think we’d say no?” A pause. “You did, didn’t you! Why you- Come here!” Miriam leans across Aly and grabs Bella by the collar, dragging her into a searing kiss. After a few moments, an appreciative whistle from Aly breaks them apart and he takes his own turn to kiss Bella, lingeringly.

“We ain’t going far, darling,” he tells her, his eyes gentle in a way that feels more seeing than even Miriam’s stare.

“Well if we’re offering comfort-” Matthew stands and walks around the fire, dropping to one knee to plant his own sweet kiss on Bella’s lips. “We’d all be obliged if you’d open your home to us, ma’am.” They all giggle at his exaggerated drawl, before Bella turns to Clayton, one eyebrow raised.

He rolls his eyes, in a way they’ve all come to know is fond, and she scoots into his open arms. Leaning close, Clay whispers something in her ear that none of the others can hear before pulling her into something soft and gentle, all lips, no tongue.

“Well,” says Bella abruptly, straightening herself out as Matthew returns to his place around the fire. “That’s that. Though we might have to trickle into the house to avoid being run out of town. It will be quite the scandal anyway, of course, but then, isn’t that a little exciting?”

The group chuckles. “Keep ‘em guessing, baby,” says Aly. “Keep ‘em guessing.”

“If two’s company and three’s a crowd, I reckon that makes an affair this big a circus,” adds Clay, reclining with a sharp grin.

“Clayton  _ Sharpe! _ Just for that, you’re moving in last.”

As Clay kisses a path up Bella’s neck in an attempt to change her mind, the group settles knowing that soon, they’ll be able to do this in a bed of their own.

And if Aloysius still wants to visit the girls at the Gem or Clayton finds that he can’t sleep in the same room without feeling trapped, well. They still won’t have to reach far to find somebody to love.


End file.
